The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-05-18
SHIRLEY CARSTONE.
By ELIZA ARCHARD.
CONTINUED.
CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XIX
THEY MET ONCE MORE
There was one who had heard Brownies
crv Black Sam was crossing the woods
toward home. Sam past 20 now and
bent and feeble, but he ran up valiantly when
he heard the shrek. He saw Rips hand laid
upon Brownie. He thought she was being
murdered
He had an ak on his shoulder. Old as he
was, he would have cleft the tramp's skull in
a moment. but the fellow saw the descending
az and caught it, He let the girl go and
laid hold of the negro.
run. Miss Brownie cried old Sam.
Brownie was still wild with terror She
was an unreasoning creature at best She
gave in to the moments impulse, and ran as
Sam told her.
The tramp tried to shake off the negro.
Let me go.n he muttered, in rage. "Let
me GO or I'll murder youn
But Sam clung about him with hamper
ing hold, and kept him back. 1t reused all
the fury in him. He doubled his fist, and
gave Sam stunning blow. The black man
fell like stone and lay still.
There -!n said the tramp
Two men met Brownie as she ran. No
sooner did she catch sight of one of these two
than she flung her arms around his neck in
an agony of fright and ecstasy of relief She
cuddled down against his breast as if he was
the last man on earth and she never meant
TO let him GO
Truly she never did Was he not Robert
Edgerly, her repentant, returning loverl
The other man was her brother Harry, now
a well grown youth of Is. They had come
to look for her There were Harry's strong
and willing arms for her to fling herself into,
and Harry was the dearest brother she had
Yet she ran past him and flung herself fran
tically upon a young man she had quarreled
with, and who was no kin to her at all Truly,
girls are queer.
At sight of them Rip disappeared 1t was
as if he had dropped through the ground.
Robert and Harry searched all about That
night the neighborhood men secured the
woods for him. They never found him.
Sam was alive but unconscious when they
came to him He was old, black and ignorant,
and timid and weak, yet he was as true a
hero, true knight of chivalry as ever
breathed He gave his life to succor fair
lady in distress.
The faithful soul never came to his senses.
His head struck a stone as he fell under the
blow from Rips fist. He breathed on un-
consciously for two hours. Then-another
link was broken that bound the Carstones to
their vanished childhood He was buried IN
the Carstone graveyard, not far from the
master to whose children he had been SO
faithful Many is the time Sam had said;
II allus wanted big funeral. 1t is specta-
bic like, as if man was gen'lman of conse-
quence When die it'd be a comfort to me
to know de fust families all turned out and
helped lay de old man away"
If he could have known it, Sam had his
wish to his hearts content. The first families
| turned out in mass and followed him to his
grave Could he have known it, he would
have considered his funeral a credit TO the
| Carstone family.
1t was some days before Brownie got back
her spirits. She was pale and weak, and
| easily startled And now the Englishman
proved how gentle and devoted he could be.
| He showed beyond doubt that he both could
| and did see whether lady was comfortable
| or not. When the neighbors gathered at
Sans funeral, in the kindly country fashion,
| Edgerly took his place with the CaTstoneS
| beside Brownie, as if he had right there.
| Then afterward, when Brownie was begin
| ming to be herself again, he staid later than
usual one evening. When he went away he
boldly kissed her good night before all the
folk
Brownie blushed and pouted slightly and
| drew back.
@Oh. come now,n said he. "When young
lady throws herself into a mans arms in the
presence of third party, you know
Brownie was suppressed.
Then he went away for few days
"What have you done with your forget-me
not ring. BrownieF" he asked when he came
back.
| 'eIt's gone,n she answered mournfully. q
wore it all the same and never took it off
But 1 was robbed of it that day-tha
day"-
ooh, well, don't mind about it"
Next there was silence Robert broke it
with remark as follows, to wit
81 have been away from England yea
and half If 1 don't get out of this hea
thenish country soon, shall forget how civ
ilized people eat.
Brownie looked up.
"Tm going back in January, going hom
to stay this time.
Brownie gave start
you'll break your heart about me,
know, if 1 leave you here"
Don't you think you are little mean t.
saw thatfn she asked.
$50 I suppose 1 shall have to take you owe
to England with me"
Which he did She made him as sweet, a
| u
ever graceda stately home.
For Shirley, the faithful, the untiring, he
existence moved oD as though life was never
never to end for her. She worked ant
thought for them all, and for everybody
without a stopping or breathing space Be
tween herself and Brownies husband tie
friendship grew that became only stronge
as he was older. She had not brother b.
blood whose devotion to her was as enthu
slastic as Roberts Ones familiars and XII
are often the ones who are the most blind {
tie best that is in him. 1t was surely so wit
Shirley, who was used to make SO little o
herself
She had not the leisure time to begin he
poem as yet Not yet.
The power her father and the master dis
cerned in her had its forced development i
other ways than they had thought Th
mother and younger children remained stl
, TO be worked for She and they had still t
live from hand to mouth
J So newspaper woman she was and n
J manned But she degraded her calling to
mean or spiteful or shallow ends. Longfe
low tells how the mechanic Albrecht DureI
. with his stylus, sang the nobility of labor
the rich and stupid Nurembergers till b
startled them from their bourgeoise content
Shirley sang the same song with her pen.
was a pen that cut through the transier
,, down to the eternal good and truth that ar
the only abiding realities. She sang th
worth of wise work, the ladyhood and gentle
: manhood that are above and greater than th
? accident of occupation, or of wealth and po'
]. erty. To be sincere, to be gentle and jus
| and helpful to others, to spend time in Learn
| | inc only the things that are worth knowing
: this was the golden song of Shirley's pen
> So she kept her life high and valiant.
, She was not unhappy in those years tt
: busy are never wholly miserable. If onl
i she could have poured out her thoughts
: the marvellous poem that had hovered in hs
! brain 50 long she could have quite put the ol
I sorrows aside. AS the years went on, 81
! could even have come at last to regard
| comedy the tragedy of her life. Toiling wit
0 enthusiasm at the work one has chosen
= greather than happiness or riches-ye
| greats.than love itself.
i As it was, though, her life was so hard,
{ different from all she had planned or dreams
I | of. twenty years before. Robert Edger
: came faithfully over the water to see b,
: | every year or two, sometimes with Browni
sometimes without Once, too, the charmir
| cid father came, and his visit was ike q
: oasis in her desert of toll
One winter, when Shirley went to Was
ington for The Morning Herald, Robe
! Edgerly went with her. She was now di
s. tinguished newspaper woman Her descri
+ fion of events was ar once brilliant and acc
y rate. Unmoved at all times by ths glories
q the reign of bosh everywhere about her, s
b saw fact, and kept to it.
The rising star in American politics at Il
4, time was a congressman from western stat
II He was not precisely what we cali man
: the people, though he had made his own W,
; in the world. But il was poor way as I
as getting riches was concerned He mig
have become wealthy dozen times. but
i held in burning contempt the methods of G